


follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly

by specficslut (homosociality)



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Abduction, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fisting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Erik Lehnsherr Cries His Way Through Sex, M/M, Medical Kink, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Omega Erik Lehnsherr, Rape, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24612844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociality/pseuds/specficslut
Summary: Dr. Sebastian Shaw loves his job testing runaway omegas for fertility. Today, a boy named Erik is in the back of his medical van.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Sebastian Shaw
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61
Collections: X-Salon Challenge Works





	follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: sexualized rape, mention of medical child sexual abuse, and all the tags. Erik's age is never mentioned. Caveat lector.

The van is parked in the side of town not just known for being bad but for being perverse. Omega whores stare at out at him as he walks the brisk four-minute walk from his back office to the van. They don’t even flinch anymore at the sounds that the soundproofing can’t quite muffle; they’ve all been through something similar, most when they first presented, but a few of them later, like the boy trapped inside the van now, a few of them after they thought they’d gotten away with it, with pretending they could hide their true natures from society.

Shaw climbs inside the back of the van and turns to face the boy splayed out on his examination table today.

He’s had him here for the last three days as he waited for the boy’s suppressants to wear off. He isn’t always attracted to the boys and girls the omega-catchers bring for him to assess the fertility of; but this boy is a rare breed, all planes and angles, the hatred and fire in his eyes as he’d cursed at Shaw when Shaw had leaned over him to strap his ankles in place against the stirrups, the way he still fights, twisting, his eyes dazed from days of nothing to eat but water from a drip in the roof of the van. “Hello, Erik,” Shaw says, pulling on latex gloves with a crisp snap. “Don’t worry. It shouldn’t be much longer now.”

“Fuck you,” Erik slurs.

Shaw slaps him. He doesn’t take it personally—many of the omegas brought to him are uncooperative. If they weren’t in hiding, their parents would just take them to the front of the clinic and let him do his work testing their fertility in the nice sterile environs of his office. Still, it’s good for the omegas to know that kind of back-talk won’t be tolerated at the Institute, if they’re found to be fertile, or by their pimps, if they’re not. Erik makes a soft moan in the back of his throat as he tips his head to the side, his cheekbone already reddening. It’s not strictly professional, but Shaw pets it gently, soothing away the sting. “There, there. Now. I trust you’ve had an enema?”

“No,” Erik moans, but Shaw knows better, was asking more out of courtesy, to keep the boy engaged and aware. His physician’s assistant, a young beta named Emma who doubles as his driver, had certainly cleaned him thoroughly in preparation for this final examination. Shaw draws his tools close and examines the sweet puckered hole displayed by the spread stirrups. There’s already a gleam of wetness on the rim; Shaw rubs his thumb over the clench of it, then eases his thumb in to see whether the muscle relaxants and heat inducers Emma injected have taken. The sluggish clench of Erik’s body around his thumb tells him that they’re making good time.

Shaw settles in on his rolling stool with a book as the noises Erik is making grow more desperate as he can feel the heat overtaking him. The boy has probably been on suppressants since his first heat, which is more a minor fever than anything; he likely barely understands what’s happening to his body. Shaw pitilessly checks his watch. Almost time.

“Please—” the boy gasps— “don’t do this—”

“Now, now,” Shaw says unforgivingly. “You know it’s the rules, Erik. You should’ve had a fertility test the moment you presented. If you hadn’t tried to run away from your responsibilities we wouldn’t be here now." He tests Erik’s hole again; loosened, it yields to his touch. “I’m going to insert the speculum now, yes, Erik? It will be a little cold.”

“No—” Erik sobs.

He presses the metal of the speculum into Erik’s hole, opens it slowly, savoring the way Erik screams and sobs at the cool touch of metal inside him. When it’s fully extended, he runs a gloved finger along the way Erik’s soft insides are pressed open by the metal struts of the speculum, admiring. “Very good muscle tone,” he says reassuringly over Erik’s soft crying. “You’re very strong, Erik. If you are fertile, you’ll be capable of bearing for many years.” He fingers the pink pleats of Erik’s asshole, blows a soft breath into the opening to watch him clench and bear down against the breeze. Watches as Erik begin to drip into the silver bowl poised beneath his body to catch his body’s growing lubrication. He returns to his book, ignoring Erik’s thin, pained whimpers and the way he shifts restlessly against restraints that have no give, his arms by his sides, his legs spread obscenely wide. 

When he judges enough time has passed for Erik to be sufficiently loosened up, he withdraws the speculum, not bothering to snap it closed—Erik sobs again—and reaches for the next of his instruments, a small but powerful vibrator. He turns it on and rubs it against Erik’s hole, just nudging, just to let him feel the force of the vibrations. Erik is twisting now, uncomfortable and sensitized, and Shaw sympathizes; the plastic of the examination chair is hardly the most comfortable. With his thumb, he pushes the vibrator inside in one smooth stroke, only a little nub still hanging out of Erik for easy retrieval. Erik’s mouth opens in a beautiful silent _oh,_ and Shaw, to his vague interest, entertains thoughts of sticking his cock into that lovely pursed bow of a mouth. _That_ would be terribly unprofessional, though.

Erik shakes around the vibrator in counterpoint to it. Shaw flicks the nub every so often when he seems to relax, to grow used to the sensation, startling a whine out of him when he does. This requires more attention than the speculum, so he puts his book aside as he watches Erik’s reactions, as the slow drip of slick from his cunt becomes a steady drool. He thumbs idly at the ring of muscle clenched around the base of the vibrator, pressing his latex-covered fingernail into the pink, swollen flesh. “Good, Erik,” he says, enraptured. “Very good.”

Erik is drooling from mouth and ass by the time he takes the vibrator out, his tears dried on his face as he stares dully at the wall of the van. His eyes are unfocused, the vacant glossy stare of the omega in full heat, an omega that has forgotten that he doesn’t want this, that at the end of this examination his life as a disguised member of society will be over, that he will either be dropped off at a brothel or interred in the Institute, unless a rich alpha purchases him at auction to make him their personal breeding bitch. He is all shifting limbs and sobbing moans now, and Shaw is grateful both for the soundproofing and the terminal lack of interest anyone in this neighborhood will show to what sounds like a porno being made in the back of a van. Shaw slicks up his fingers with medical-grade lubricant, although Erik is so wet now that an alpha’s fingers or cock could just slide right in; he is a professional. And then he pushes two fingers past Erik’s pucker, massaging that smooth, tight flesh that feels even better than it looks, that hot, hot, damp channel, his most intimate secret. “This would be easier,” Shaw says idly, making conversation with a patient, “if you weren’t such an uptight bitch and had let an alpha or two fuck you by now. You’re certainly old enough for it.”

Erik sobs again, a dry sob this time. His head lolls.

Shaw works his fingers in and out, steadily, taking his time before adding a third. The third finger stretches Erik a little more than he had been already, makes him keen quietly at the burn of it. Through his mask, Erik’s scent is barely perceptible, and Shaw has the insane urge to tug it down and lick at Erik’s hole, to seal his mouth over Erik’s lovely leaking prick and suck until the boy screamed and came down his throat. Again, he is a _professional._ To distract himself, he adds the fourth finger before he really should. Erik screams. Shaw soothes him with an absent hand petting down his flank.

He works Erik until he feels as though he could slide his whole hand inside.

Finally, the part of his job he enjoys most. He tucks his thumb into the cradle of his other fingers and _pushes_. Erik's mouth opens wordlessly as Shaw gently works the meat of his hand past Erik’s sphincter. At last, his whole hand is encased in Erik’s body, from fingertips to wrist. He makes tiny jerking motions with his wrist to loosen the tight clench of Erik’s cunt around him; slowly, resistance gives way and his insides mold to Shaw’s hand. Slowly, he curls his fingers into a fist. Erik makes a little gasping noise that is past a scream, past a moan, as though all the breath has been punched out of him with Shaw’s fist. When Shaw is ready, his fist roughly the size of a knot, he begins to rock gently into Erik’s body, simulating the rough fucking that Erik was made for, built for. It is gentler on the boy, of course; no cock juts past the simulated knot, spearing deep into him. Shaw works his knuckles against the inner walls of the boy’s body, feels the stuttering tremor of micro-orgasms. He keeps going. He’s waiting for the big one. Shaw pounds Erik’s sweet helpless body, fucks him with his fist, and Erik cries, and cries, and cries.

Finally, finally, Erik’s trembling muscles reach a fever pitch, and Shaw feels the smooth roll of his internal walls as he comes, slick gushing past his fist and into the silver bowl poised to catch the spill. Erik’s eyes roll back into his head. Feeling strangely tender, almost paternal, in a way he rarely is with omegas, Shaw pets his hair as he works through it, his first ever real orgasm, as he clenches and shakes around where he has been breached. Erik’s mouth gapes open as he slips into unconsciousness—hardly uncommon for omegas experiencing true pleasure for the first time—and Shaw strokes him through that, too, although the intrusive thoughts about pulling his cock out and fucking Erik’s sweet little mouth are getting harder and harder to ignore. Even after Erik is out, his body still shakes. Shaw waits patiently for them to die down.

Finally, he removes his hand, gently, enamored by the way Erik’s cunt gapes at him now, the way an omega hole should look—fucked open, wet and gleaming. The only thing missing is come, smeared over his body and hole, mixed with his slick, dripping into the silver bowl beneath his legs. But there will be enough of that in time. He reaches for the speculum again and clicks on his pen flashlight, checking for the telltale signs of fertility—as he suspected, Erik will make a wonderful breeder. It would’ve been such a shame if he’d gotten away with posing as a beta. It would’ve been such a waste.

Shaw knocks on the divider between the back and the cab of the van. Emma slides open the panel; she’s been reading a magazine. “The Institute,” he tells her, and she nods, starts the van. Shaw disposes of his gloves and considers Erik’s splayed-out unconscious body.

Though he could afford it, he hasn’t thought seriously about getting an omega for himself in years. Erik, though. There’s something about Erik. Something about the way he’d struggled and cursed, with more fire than most omegas who’d gotten to this stage had. Something beautiful about the way he’d surrendered to his body, to the impulses that, unmedicated, were too strong for anything as frail and fragile as an omega to deny. He thinks about Erik in the sun, Erik chained to his bed, Erik beautiful and vicious, Erik broken and obedient. His cock is thick and heavy in his pants. He palms it idly as he considers the boy.

When they arrive at the Institute, he helps Emma lift the boy onto a gurney and strap him down. Emma stays behind to scrub the van down, sterilize it for the next patient. Before he signs Erik into the Institute, he drinks in the sight of him, consideringly. “When is the next auction?” he asks the nearest orderly.

The orderly smiles at him. “Finally met an omega worth keeping, doc?”

“Perhaps,” Shaw says, rolling the words on his tongue, tasting them as though they’re candy, as though they’re the fluid leaking steadily from an aroused omega’s prick. “Perhaps I have.”

**Author's Note:**

> At the Institute, Erik meets a kind alpha orderly named Xavier, and they fall in love. But love between an inmate and a staff member is forbidden… and as Erik’s auction date grows closer, Shaw is a looming threat over their bond.
> 
> For the [X-Salon Summer of Smut](https://x-salon.tumblr.com/post/619691984269000704/x-salon-monthly-challenge-were-showing-up-in), July Day 8: Fisting. Thanks to [lavenderlotion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion) for title help.
> 
> I am at tumblr as [homoethics](https://homoethics.tumblr.com/). Please comment; constructive criticism welcome.


End file.
